Embracing the Chill Cult of Phish

Phish sucks. At least that’s the common view from observers outside the band’s
rabid, exhausting fanbase. Looking from the periphery, the Vermont four-piece
and its fervent followers are just a collection of burned-out hippies that
require the assistance of psychotropic drugs to enjoy 10-minute jams with
overindulgent guitar noodling and nonsensical lyrics—while guitarist and singer
Trey Anastasio gave up drugs and alcohol after 2006, those substances are still
very much ingrained in the culture. The studio albums leave much to be desired
but the shows vary so widely that each performance constitutes a historic
event, one that’s cataloged and debated on the Internet and discussed during
bathroom breaks. If you’re inside this circle (a “phan” per se), Phish is the
greatest living band in the world.

That much heavy baggage seems overwhelming to an outsider.
It’s easy to see why cynics would rather write the band off immediately than
give them a fair shake, simply throwing them into the abyss of no-good musical
punching bags inhabited by Nickelback, Dave Matthews Band and Insane Clown
Posse. I know this feeling because I hate Phish. Or rather, I hated Phish. I
hated them for all the reasons above, but also because I thought in no possible
way could I relate to someone that liked this technically complex yet utterly tasteless
music.

My fervor started to soften after listening to the podcast “Analyze
Phish,” where one comedian, Harris Wittels, painstakingly tries to convince the
other, Scott Aukerman, that the band is actually good. The podcast offers an
unforced entryway into the band’s cumbersome mythology and an opportunity to
laugh at its ridiculousness before slowly buying in. But more importantly, the
podcast has a funny, well-adjusted person at its center, proof that it’s
possible to enjoy the band without being brainwashed by the culture surrounding
them. And just like that, my contempt began to unravel. Might I actually like
Phish?

I attended my first ever Phish show on Saturday night, the
first of two performances this weekend at Alpine Valley, in an attempt to
finally figure out the appeal of these groovy middle-aged men very skillfully
playing instruments. I bought into the tailgate aspect almost immediately. Fans
parked in the grassy lot four hours before the show was scheduled to start. The
lot was far less unnerving than expected (though, almost immediately some guy
was arrested by cops as others audibly protested that he only verbally
confronted a police officer). Most people simply fired up the grill, cracked
some beers and threw a Frisbee.

Inside the venue, the vibe remained similarly chill. At
times it felt like a competition over who could be the most chill, either
through waiting patiently in line for $13 beers or calmly finding a seat. But
when Phish took the stage to open with a new jam, “No Men In No Man’s Land,”
the entire audience collectively lost their minds to the song’s slinky grooves.
The first set felt more like jukebox surfing than the long progressive guitar
work I initially expected, as the band delved into several different genres—bluegrass
on “Poor Heart” then blues-rock on “Julius” and then psychedelia on “Frankie
Says.”

As the night wore on, the band sauntered through its more
expansive material, taking more than 40 minutes for the next four songs. After
a prolonged break, Phish returned for a second set with big sing-alongs, the
doo-wop of “Halley’s Comet” and “Fuego,” and longer jams like set openers and
closers “Down with Disease” and “Slave to the Traffic Light.”

There were moments of beautiful transcendence and times where
I would have preferred being bludgeoned to death. At first I couldn’t stop
thinking how grating all this felt—the meandering solos and snail’s pace were
like nails on a kaleidoscopic chalkboard. But as soon as I stopped thinking
cerebrally and simply reacted physically to the music, I felt a strong pull. (I
can now totally see why drugs are so effective to the experience).

So, did this searing journey indoctrinate me into the school
of Phish? Definitely not. Would I go see the band the next time they come
through town? Probably not. Have I come to respect fans and empathize with their
current status as fans of a low-culture movement? Of course. Does Phish suck?
Absolutely not, man.

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Comments (2)

The complex yet efficient lens of Dave Zylstra rem...

The complex yet efficient lens of Dave Zylstra reminds me of the early work of Kraftwerk among other German new wave. He is a stunning example of a modern man thriving in a post kraut rock world. Bravo. Simply magnificent.

Anonymousmore than 2 years ago

Fans of this perspective will dig....http://www.np...

Fans of this perspective will dig....http://www.npr.org/series/13037852...

Anonymousmore than 2 years ago

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